


XZERO WEEK Short Stories

by toc



Category: Rockman X | Mega Man X
Genre: M/M, MATURE fluff ooooh, Sensual Fluff, i have written yet i cannot write....sad creacher....im trying to change this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-10-30 03:38:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17821133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toc/pseuds/toc
Summary: its xzero week in a discord im in so im contributing because wow....xzero....hope you like unbeta'd (but i did check for errors...briefly...) <:3c





	1. Firsts

The first time Zero and X interfaced was to remedy the stress and alertness that disrupted their exhausted states. Months of pointless war and pain didn't help the hunters ease their defenses, even in the walls of safety that is Hunter Headquarters, to comfortably recharge. Digital dreams became infective nightmares. Their individual recharge pods would become unbearable and claustrophobic. The nights would become an endless stream of repressed memories. Both reploids recognized each other's turmoil as the familiar nights became a ritual, and decided it was too much to withstand without the other's company.

In the surrounding darkness of X's room, enveloping a crimson reploid in warmth and safety after another night of intrusive thoughts plaguing their brains, an azure reploid proposed a solution.

"Interface with me, Zero."

Those words never fail to make Zero's core tremble in bliss the more he refers to the memory, along with the warmth that followed into his body during that special moment. Their first experience of interfacing together—a session of familiar weight and touch expressed in euphoria and sensuality...

They settle in X's recharge pod, positioning themselves on their sides and facing each other, and connect each other through the forest of wires and cables and ports. A feeling of pressure arises when they link their sensors together, pushing and penetrating their data into the other's body, as if wanting to reroute their cores and electrobrains into a single state of luxury. With their minds now linked, their souls begin to meld and shape in an incorporeal fashion, and their bodies begin to hug the other to mimic such actions.

'X,' he hears himself say, 'I'm sorry, there's too much in my head right now. These thoughts, I don't want you to see them. Don't look. Please.'

'It's ok, Zero,' X replies in his own head, 'I won't judge you. It's safe here, you're safe. I'm not going anywhere'. He could feel X's hands stroke his golden hair, caressing ever so softly, like a breeze running against an ocean wave. The intention of assurance flashes through their conjoined minds, and Zero drinks it up to ease the prolonging feeling of fear that still plagues his core—an anchor to hold himself off the inner demons that hide in his heart.

'X. These thoughts, these memories, it hurts. I don't want them to hurt you. But, I don't want to leave you. X... What should I do?'

'Think of me. Zero. Think of me and nothing else. I'm here. Think of me. Be in me. Zero...'

And so Zero's mind begins to set his memories of X on loop, and settles in X's sensation of trust and serenity that he feels emanating from his core, like the flow of a sweet scent coming from a blossom. He eases into all the data he formatted about X and brings them out in the vulnerable open, washing away the burdens of his core while they bathed in it's light. He cherishes each experience he has with X (the other can feel this, too) as it runs down their combined souls like sweet nectar, filling the gaps of pain and suffering that Zero accumulated into his head. Electric shocks are joined together with warm pleasure—a concoction of love and adoration on a deeper, sensual level. The loop of memories play out in their heads like life flashing before their eyes, along with the sensations Zero picked up and formatted forever in his control chip. 

The sounds of X, the touch of X, the image of X. X's warmth, X's presence, X's passion, X's fury. His respect for X. His friendship with X. His dependence for X. His love for X. His X. My X. Your X. X, X, X, X...!

In a flurry of excessive and rapid relay of data, X tries to focus on his caresses on Zero has he is bombarded with Zero's wave of adoration, soothing the trembling of his body while being hit with climactic heat and pressure. He can feel the quake in his shoulders that echo all over his body, how their faux breathe shake against each other's lips, as if his entire being is shivering the coldness of reality to nothingness and instead accepting the burning heat of this moment that X is sharing.

The crash of Zero's climax against X's open and vulnerable soul nearly drowned him of his thoughts and emotions, sensing spikes of shame and embarrassment in Zero's flood of data distribution, almost as if the existence of these functions in his database were forbidden and secretive to war bots like him (the thought of Zero entrusting X his everything almost made X shutdown mid-session), and soon the azure reploid followed his crimson partner in his own fulfilling flood. Both reploids clung to each other in their overload high, their armor groaning against their bodies as if exerting their remaining energy to become one.

Soon, the pleasant feeling of being filled by the other's soul satisfies the hunters, and before long Zero's mind begins to slow, and the shivering eases to a stop. Exhaustion escapes from both of their lips, yet the interfacing cables remain locked in the other's ports, their sensors lingering within the other's body to cherish their experience into their own systems. X, still wandering the digital scape of Zero's soul, manages to move a misplaced strand of golden hair from his partner's face as he slowly succumbs into sleep mode. Zero, his core unburdened of the infectious protocols located even outside of X's reach, uses his remaining strength to caress X's body one more time before settling his arms around the other's waist. X softly laughs at Zero's gesture, and he finally closes his eyes.

"Goodnight, Zero. I'll see you in our dreams."


	2. Daily

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> X picks up a bad habit. Zero tries his best to help him.

The mind of a reploid, specifically a maverick hunter, evolves by the accumulation of data received from outsourced information acquired and filters it through an electrobrain. Regardless of the intention of information acquired, it is then formatted to a control chip, where memories and sensations are "kept at heart", and the reploid is granted a personality, and soon their own individuality.

However, the electrobrain is of it's own motor, and the filtering of information is more automated than by the conscious choice of a reploid. During the filtering process, the electrobrain may inspect a continuous stream of data of similarity, and it would automatically label these links as important information, and thus would be momentarily formatted to the control chip. Regardless if said information acquired were labelled as "important" or "unnecessary", constant feedback would activate the electrobrain's automatic motor to format it despite it's ethicality.

Therefor, like human brains, there is a possibility reploids can subconsciously acquire and format data that could impede their protocols and alter their behavior.

Specifically, reploids can likely pick up unhealthy habits.

Specifically, X has picked up an unhealthy habit.

After many wars fought and many lives lost, the mystery of the maverick virus comes no closer to a cure than it was from the beginning. The unsatisfaction of progress and the wavering hope for peace catches up on X as he constantly recalls his failure of achieving a solution to end this nightmare, and soon he begins to show signs of a droning machine devoid of self.

Zero notices this as he sees X less often than usual, and the times he's near X he witnesses his partner eat and recharge less than necessary. Where was that smile that X fails to hide from Zero during their private conversations, or the look of life in his eyes after X becomes filled with determination and hope after a successful mission? Did something change in X? How did he not notice this? If something did happen to X, was he too late to realize?

Zero nearly falters in mortification.

In the after hours of one night, within the silence of an illuminated hall bare of anything but two reploids, Zero confronts X on their way to their respective rooms.

"X, How long ago was it that you recharged?"

X levels his head to give the impression he's looking at Zero, but the crimson reploid could see how his partner is failing to focus his eyes on the other. His stance looks weak, almost slouched, as if the X he was talking to was just a cardboard cutout that could easily fall over.

"I... I don't remember."

Zero holds his breath, a faux trait that he inherited from X's human-like behavior (a sign on how much X affects Zero, even to the point of developing non-reploid customs), and focuses to hide the fact he almost falters in his stance. X doesn't seem to notice.

"Have you drank an e-tank today, at least? When was the last time you consumed anything?"

X seemingly takes his time to answer, as if a simple question would require a well thought response, but Zero doesn't dismiss the look on X's face—a difficult expression, like the look of someone who is searching for the impossible in their database. Is X having trouble trying to remember things?

"I... I don't think I..."

Zero silently persuades X to continue, but X stops his response there. Zero brings his hands to his partner's shoulders, his gentle touch turned desperate the more time passes and he yet sees any reaction from X. To say that there is a sensory malfunction is an understatement, for X doesn't seem to react to anything Zero says or does to him. He couldn't stop his hands from shaking as he continues to clench the azure reploid's arms, as if keeping himself up from suddenly staggering to the ground, but Zero still manages to present an unphased look for the other. X still doesn't seem to notice.

"X, what's going on? What's happening to you?"

The look X gives almost immediately breaks Zero's heart, as artificial as it may be. He looks so small, so defeated. Zero reaffirms his suspicions: the X he knew was not here...

"I... I don't know... I don't know anything, anymore..."

X is too dissociated to witness Zero falling to the ground, trembling.

* * *

 

In the blink of an eye, X notices a change in his current location and organizes his surroundings. He's in... Zero's room, not in an illuminated hallway void of life, laying comfortably on a used couch enveloped under a dim, warm light. He looks over his body and notices that he is armorless, completely naked in this vulnerable form, saved for a soft blanket draped over his shoulders. X unconsciously sniffs it for a familiar scent, and he can confirm that it indeed belongs to Zero.

X doesn't recognize Zero's presence until he sees his hands being moved to hold a bowl of soup. Steam is emanating from the bowl, but why can't he feel any warmth?

"X, can you hear me?" Zero says softly, as if talking to a lost child who lost their way. X wants to answer, but he feels no energy in his system to even voice Zero's concern. Actually, he's never seen Zero look so worried before. No, it couldn't be... That look... Was Zero...?

"X, I'm scared for you," Zero whispers, as if the war bot was admitting his weakness in a moment of defeat (in this case, X seems to be his weakness), "You've been acting strange lately, and I feel like you're starting to isolate yourself from..." Zero murmurs and looks away, almost shameful. "I don't know what's happening to you, nor do I know when or where it started, but I have a suspicion... A suspicion that it may have something to do with your maverick duties. I fear what you do after our missions, alone in your room..." During this, Zero begins to lift up a spoon full of soup and settles the utensil to X's lips, who ever so slowly sips it down his throat.

"That's why everyday, from now on, you're going to be staying in my room where I can keep an eye on you."

The lack of warmth X feels in his mouth as the soup flows down his throat, as well as the lack of warmth he feels from holding the bowl, transfixes him, and Zero sighs. He deposits the spoon back in the bowl and places both his hands on X's face, slowly lifting his head to his eye level, and gently caresses the other's cheek with his thumb.

"Do you understand what I'm saying, X? I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to take care of you, feed you, sleep with you, wait for you, until I see you come back to us. I want to see my friend again."

Suddenly, light begins to shimmer faintly in beautiful, emerald eyes, and color begins to regain in synthetic skin as Zero continues to feed X. While one hand holds a spoon full of warm liquid, another hand moves back to X's cheek.

He feels warmth.

X feels _warmth_.

"This will be our daily ritual. Everyday, for as long as it takes, I will wait for you. So please, come back to me, my X."


	3. Fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> X and Zero enjoy a night together, as reploids, doing a non-reploid custom.

If either of the two reploids were asked how this all began, they might say that their memory of it's beginning was too obscure to recall, or perhaps they've simply forgotten about it. Regardless on how it started, either reploid cannot deny that it was the result of their strong bond for each other that gravitated to it's creation. Perhaps no other companion—no other reploid, specifically—shared a similar closeness and familiarity that could outmatch the companionship between X and Zero to initiate such activities. To their knowledge, no one else was close between the two besides each other, and with such close vicinity do they find themselves being pulled in a magnet of respite.

After a long day of patrolling a far off sector in Abel, the two maverick hunters would travel to either's room (depending on who got off duty first) with familiarity. A ritual would take place each night, something they both decided after who-knows-how-many uprisings of constant battle, in one of the hunter's designated, specially refurbished rooms. Behind closed doors, the hunters would lock themselves away from the world and indulge in each other's presence, drinking up their essence, in the form of a domestically human lifestyle: X would finish up sending documents while Zero concluded his reports, or X prepares a meal while Zero would help with his partner after setting up a movie, or X would prepare a bath while Zero set up their shared bed.

For today's human custom, tonight is X's turn to warm the bath. Unlike a human household, basic water isn't a viable method to thoroughly "clean" the inner mechanics of a reploid, especially one stripped of their entire armor, and thus a "substitute solution" is instead dispensed from the faucet. Since it's viscosity and acting agent is as similar to water, it works as a replacement for bathing purposes. X is grateful for this invention, as unnecessary as it may be (since reploid wash pods are still a thing), because it means it holds a special place in his human-like nature. He feels like he should thank Dr. Cain again for this generous favor.

Zero notices the sound of the faucet stopping, followed by the ripple of water and a comforting sigh. The warm steam of the bath beckons him to join his lover, so he quickly finishes preparing the bed, disengages the locks on his armor, and emerges into the washroom. X is already in the tub, water-like solution soaking his robotic skeleton of soapy dew, but the other reploid sees that X left a large portion of space at the edge of the tub, just for him. The heat of the solution slowly soaks the inner mechanics and wires of Zero's body as he settles himself alongside X, adjusting to a comfortable position where his back meets the end of the tub.

As Zero savors the quiet moment in the stilled solution, eyes closed and head resting slightly back, he can hear a slosh of water traveling in his direction. Without opening his eyes, he could sense X moving towards the crimson hunter, and suddenly he feels the rush of his sensors reacting to the touch of his lover as X intimately positions himself on Zero. X hears the thrum of Zero's core as he flushes his wet body against his chest, his hands snaking behind Zero and idly dancing between the strands of golden sunlight that falls from his head and swim across his back. Zero's core becomes almost as warm as the heated bathing solution from X's delicate combing, and he decides to reciprocate by tenderly washing the azure reploid's body, his soap-covered hands gliding across the familiar territory that is X's robotic skeleton in an attempt to caress X under the guise of cleaning. X softly laughs, as light as a feather, at Zero's conspicuous actions.


	4. Cool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zero, encased in ice, dreams of past memories.

As Zero laid out in a white wasteland of sharpening temperatures, trying to reactivate his unresponsive touch receptors situated around his body, he realizes that the situation is dire. Even underneath the proper amounts of plated armor, as well as his core excessively running to make up the loss of heat circulating through his vents, the reploid was immobilized. Zero couldn't move a single joint in his body, and it was definitely his own fault.

The battle with Floe Fox was a rough one, even when he utilized the weapon of Inferno Warhog, the previous maverick he retired, yet his victory against the ice-based animaloid was outlived when the enemy left him a "parting gift" that sent him to almost immediately shutdown. A final attack from the maverick, an large-radius explosion of their tank that contained liquid nitrogen, as well as the continuation of their previous attack, a prolonged snow storm, had encased the hunter in an unmoving position. He commed X to assist him of his immobilized situation, yet he received no answer back. Think back to the fight, Zero wouldn't be surprised if the flurry of ice attacks he sustained damaged is communicator. Even just accessing any system in his electrobrain gave way to a feeling of pain and pressure, likely from the damage he took from Floe Fox's blistering ice.

Zero offhandedly remembers something X said: A similar effect on humans when they develop pain in their head due to consuming too much cold-tempered food, and the overstimulation they would experience would be identified as a "brain freeze". A little quip of knowledge about humans, thanks to X.

X...

His mind races to X. How would he respond to Zero's embarrassing predicament? Beforehand, he warned his partner to be careful of these specific mavericks, designed not for the revolution of reploids but for the destruction of all life, yet here he was: frozen and cracking under the pressure of ice from an attack he should've calculated. It was unlike of him to not think of his probability. How could he have not foreseen this rookie mistake?

'X would no doubt be scared,' thinks Zero. The sound of a faint chuckle encased in the growing depths of blistering snow cannot be heard. 'I could still see it in his expression, even when he masks it with this determined and furious look during missions... I remember when he had no control over hiding his tears on our first assignments together... Haha...'

Memories of a nostalgic, peaceful era surface in what's left of his active consciences: Past interactions with an inexperienced reploid tagging along an old yet lively man, the training sessions with his new pupil to teach him the fundamentals of battle, the growing bond he requited with a full-fledged hunter, and how he was most certain to call him his close friend.

Then came the time he saw X cry for the first time. It was in that instant that his view on X changed forever. Zero cherishes this memory, however, because it was during their times as being equal partners that made Zero feel like he knew absolutely nothing about X... And it was in that moment he needed to know more about him.

Suddenly, memories of displeasure awaken from the corners of a void, like a sickening oil emerging from the pure water that was so delicately preserved, now ruined.

Zero witnesses his death during the first uprising, and he feels the gentle arms of X's embrace now cold and stiff. He felt the warmth leave him as his consciousness submerged into the darkness; not his own warmth, but X's. He remembers leaving X a few parting words, words of encouragement and praise for his pupil, but it warps into something wrong, something like a confession that he wishes X would never have to find out.

Zero remembers the punishing nightmares he succumbs to every night, about his unknown past and creator. Scenarios play out in his head, which were all too familiar and all too real to be fictitious dreams, that leave him terrified of himself. Hidden protocols ascend from the crevices and cracks of his artificial heart, releasing objectives of destruction and chaos that still stain him of shame and hatred. Zero begins to realize those same objectives, followed by those same emotions, can be felt even during missions when he killed mavericks.

When he killed maverick hunters. 

When he killed comrades.

When he killed friends.

When he killed...

"ZERO!! I'M HERE!!"

Zero didn't have the energy left to respond to X, nor did he have enough energy to feel surprised or overjoyed by X's voice. For some reason, he was almost content to die in the blizzard. Of course, Zero shouldn't be thinking about that, especially when he can feel X's hands grope around the snow, trying to find a secure grip on his body. Even when he was removed from the snow, darkness still swarmed his vision. Zero guesses that the constant assault of ice shut off his optics.

Or maybe he became blind?

"Zero! Are you ok?! Answer me!"

He could hear X's voice starting to static.

As warmth began to reform in Zero's core from X's genuine concern, he considers if he should discipline his partner about the unnecessary risk to be overcome by his own tears during a mission such as this; it could jeopardize the lives of both him and Zero, especially when the world was going to end.

...

No. He couldn't bring himself to do it. Not even when the world was seemingly going to end, Zero wouldn't belittle X's emotional response at a time like this.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be here sooner, Zero... Let's go back to the safe house."


	5. Cyberspace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After achieving eternal rest, X gives Zero a present.

"Ah, Zero. You finally woke up."

Zero turned from examining the garment in his hands to gaze upon a familiar face.

X stands across the room of windows, the colorful light refracting through the stain glass kiss their silhouette as if welcoming a virtuous being — an effervescent spirit, he remembers, even after when his life was drained long ago. If Zero didn't realize that he was in an ethereal plane and not "alive", he would've surprised himself for not noticing his friend's presence in this open, vulnerable room. Perhaps he has already become accustomed to the afterlife, now that he has achieved peaceful rest and semi-solitude?

Zero still stares at X, and his angel slightly looks away, a light blush growing on his face and averting those blue eyes anywhere but on him.

"Sorry, If I had known you were in the middle of changing I would've met up with you-"

"It's fine, X." Zero softly says, his genuine voice reaching X even across the room, and he then turns his direction back to the garment that was laid across the bed. "Did you...make this for me?"

"Ah, I did actually. I didn't know what kind of design would suite your taste, so I settled to make an outfit exactly like mine. I... Wasn't sure of your size either, but since we have similar bodies I, uhm, figured that it would be alright if I used my own measurements." He joins his hands together and fiddles with his fingers, the blush still present on his cheeks as he continues to not look in Zero's direction.

Zero hums in acknowledgement. A prolonged silence echoes through the illuminated room as he continues to examine the red garment, fixated on X's handiwork. The sewing, while noticing some imperfection, gives way to X's patience. The detailing, as minuscule as it may seem, gives way to X's love. The outfit has a feminine form with a basic design, but in the ethereal light that showers through the stain windows does the dress seem almost heavenly... It fits X perfectly, but how would it look on Zero?

"Uhm... If you need some privacy-"

"X, help me put this on."

The angel's joined hands clench harder as he abruptly looks up to Zero with a surprised expression, his cheeks now tinted to a red hue similar to his friend's armor.

"Ah, uhm... That's..." X stutters his words in an attempt to form a coherent response to Zero's request. Actually, it felt more like a command than a request, didn't it? 'Would that be ok?' X wonders, 'It's not too forward of me to help, right? No, of course not, there's nothing wrong asking for help. Even if he is n-naked and clearly capable of putting it on himself, perhaps I would be able to check his- I mean, check the outfit for imperfections. Yeah, that's right. It's just to see if I need to make an adjustment. His comfort is important to me after all-" 

The sound of a clearing throat lures X out of his trance. He realizes that his hands are clenched tighter and he's fidgeting in place. Feeling heat emanating from his own face, he has no doubt the blush on his cheeks has changed to a crimson color. The reploid before him continues to stare at X, awaiting the obvious answer. 

The angel sighs, "A-Alright. I suppose... I suppose I can help you. Perhaps I may have to check if the measurements I made were sufficient," X mumbles, the last sentence seemingly directed to himself. He slowly approaches Zero, hands now outstretched to reach the garment, and both their fingers graze each other gently as the fabric is passed to the other.

He fixates his eyes on the red garment in his hands as Zero turns around and adjusts his hair out of the way, and X silently prays for the willpower to not lose focus and look down-

"Uhm, move our arms, please?" X tries his best not to look at Zero's revealing backside as he maneuvers his friend's arms through the sleeves. 'The sleeves seem comfortable enough, and the length doesn't seem too long. Perhaps I made the right choice of using my measurements?' he wistfully thinks, still offhandedly praying not to lose his composure. Zero then turns around and faces back to X, now revealing his exposed front, awaiting the other's continued help. X has never prayed harder in his entire life than this moment as he devotes his entire attention to adjusting the collar and buttons the front, taking care to not stare at Zero's body right in front of him-

"Ok, all done!" X abruptly stands up and tugs at his own collar, giving his neck room to clear his throat. "H-How does it fit? Is it too tight, too loose?"

"It fits just fine, X. Thank you."

"Oh, thank goodness." X sighs, relieved that he doesn't have to make adjustments. "I don't think I can handle-"

"However..."

X stops. "However?"

"Don't think I didn't see how you were stealing looks at me," Zero said, a confident smirk on his face, as if he caught a maverick in a corner of their chase. "You almost got _excited_ with me just being naked, didn't you?"

"Z... ZERO!!"

A hand presses on Zero's front, immediately followed by a harsh push, making the reploid stumble and fall onto the white, soft bed. He sees X manifest in light before his little angel scurries away. "You-! You're so mean!!"


End file.
